Bathroom Nazi

I don't ask for much in life. I'm a pretty simple guy. I don't get too fussy about things. Up until I moved to St. Louie, alls I really wanted was a beautiful woman, 20s rolled on command, and all change returned to me rounded to the nearest 64. Things have changed though.

I crave and covet creature comforts that I once took for granted. One such comfort is being able to stand in front of a urinal without stepping in a puddle of the drippsies. Every day I ask myself, "ARE WE FREAKING KIDS!?" I don't understand it. Urinals are made to be stood over. Our man-bodies are meant to pee on, pee over, and pee beyond any object we see fit. Yet strangely, in this life, many master only the "pee on" stage. I mean, seriously, our man-parts are meant for precision as well. That is why we don't have to sit on a target just to hit it. We can stand from some distance and complete our desired objectives. With all these skills, why then did someone persistently pee on my floor, for the last 5 months?

Last weekend, I finally had enough and wrote up a nice sign requesting that the urine flow where it ought to go. Problem solved, or so I thought. Now instead of standing over the urinal, they are just sprinkling the toilet seat. Why do they always think they can slip by the seat without leaving a trail. It rarely works! I guess I just need to write another sign or just lay down another protective layer of paper.